Nothing's Different, Nothing's Familiar
by lieselmemingersthievery
Summary: It's been ten years since everyone's moved out from the apartment complex. But Joey comes back for a job, one that leaves him wondering how they could've all drifted apart. Things begin to change as someone he remembers all to well shows up again. (Joey and Rachel centered)
1. Re-Pilot

_Author's Note:_

 _I miss Friends, even if I wasn't there for the weekly release of each episode. I loved it so much. And as I'm sure you're beginning to learn if you've read my other content, I'm into every ship that seems to be forbidden by TV show writers and beloved by fans._

 _I loved Joey and Rachel together. I can't help but feel that while Rachel chose Ross, Ross and Rachel weren't meant to spend forever together. Love isn't fighting every time there's a rough patch and someone is jealous. Love is telling who you love to move in with the father of the baby so that your best friend isn't missing more than what he's already missed, even if you know that in the end, it'll bring those two people back together. So fight me all you want but here's for my fellow Joey and Rachel fans._

 _One last thing: Ross is not going to be made out to be awful, such as abusive or anything to that sort. A sweet, little bean deserves better than to be written like that. But I also think that Rachel deserved better than that, even if it is undeniable that Ross will always love her. Not particularly recommended for Rachel and Ross fans._

* * *

After the stroke of ten years, he had become too aware of how different he'd become. No matter how much he had tried to keep the dream of being an actor alive, with a few good roles on television and a movie, he accepted what everyone around him was saying. To give up and to get a real job.

So he did, moving back to New York, where he truly belonged. And nestled in with all the buildings around it was 90 Bedford Street, his old home with the same apartment open. Apparently, there'd been nearly thirty six residents in and out of it, though none seemed to stay for all too long. To this date, Joey had been the longest one to live there.

He was also the only one of his friends who wasn't married and settled down with children, though he wouldn't say that he was out of game quite yet. There was still time for that, it just wasn't now. Even if that day would never come, he knew he would pour just as much love into Jack and Erica, the new Geller children, as he would've into his own.

When he'd contacted the landlord, the man had been reluctant to take him back, but did after there was an assurance that he wasn't the same, lively, twenty five year old who would set fire to baseballs to see how long it would last. And it was only when he opened up the door to the small kitchen that he was hit with the kaleidoscope of memories that he knew would catch up to him.

It was in the living room that he saw Chandler and himself, laughing together as they watched Baywatch, two beers and half eaten (well, near Chandler's beer) Chinese cuisine, though in much different chairs than the ones they had picked for themselves. Just across the hall was Monica, yelling about how filthy Rachel had left the kitchen after trying a recipe, followed by Ross and himself trying to soothe the girl; everyone knew how terrifying Monica could be. Phoebe rested against the stool near the counter, growing increasingly frustrated with his own inability to understand complex subjects. (He was out having sex in high school rather than learning. Could anyone blame him?)

But there was one that struck him more than the others, making the others fade into specks of dust, as if they hadn't haunted him just as much. It was Rachel, sitting next to him on the now gaudy, yellow couch, sharing a laugh with him. Her head tilted back on the cushions, his own looking at her as if she were his whole world. And she was, still is.

Sure, Alex had been wonderful, a bright light in the dating life in the sense that he was actually able to stay to her and not move around. But Rachel? She'd been the first love, the unforgettable love. Even when it came down to saying goodbye, he was barely able to do it. He remembered all too well how she made him feel; it was more than sexual attraction, but the kind of attraction that simply laying on the couch and watching a chick flick, intentionally, could bring.

Only Rachel had been able to give him that feeling of stuttering on his words. But he knew exactly where he was for her, a flicker of interest in comparison to the everloving and patient Ross. He was her best friend and nothing more. Being her best friend meant suppressing all the feelings he had allowed to build up for her, all while being sure to comfort her at any given moment.

With such a description, he figured they would've talked more than they did, and yet, she was nowhere to be found in his list of call logs on his phone, nor had she been for years now. The last they'd talked, Emma had her sixth birthday, the miniature Rachel managing to steal the phone to talk to him. And just as he suspected, Emma had the same honey warmth in her voice that Rachel carried, one that assured nothing but a sweet human behind the words.

Joey rolled the suitcase into his room after closing the door, almost expecting an etch-a-sketch to still be on the back of the door from his time living there, with some ridiculous and child-like drawing that had come to his head from what would be considered his youthful years.

As he laid down in his bed, there was something in him that felt that his own reflection into his mind wouldn't be the last he would see of his friends after coming back; it was that notion that let him fall asleep much easier than he expected. After all, sometimes his hunches came from a good spot.


	2. Give a Ring to a Bing

_Author's Note:_

 _I've received some nice reviews of my story and I'm very grateful for that. I feel like the new chapter will have both disappointed and happy viewers so I'm prepared for that. I hope it is enjoyed overall. I also want to warn that someone is making a chapter early appearance but as a simple mention. Enjoy!_

 _Also, I'm going to note how while I'm rewatching Friends, I noticed that I love Phoebe and Ross together? Both as friends and romantically. I don't know; it's cute, fight me. That being said, don't sweat it; Mike and Phoebe are happy together in my story. I can only change a few things and I couldn't change a couple I love together so much more than the formerly mentioned. Mike is Phoebe's happy ending, or at least in my opinion._

 _To those who have read my story, Things You Don't Learn in Veterinarian School, never fear! If I don't upload a chapter of it tonight as well, it will be by Saturday._

* * *

Some things about people never seem to change. For Joey, it was the fact that he woke up every morning with a white, Hanes shirt on (and boxers, if he felt the need to be modest).

Since he'd forgotten that his things were being delivered today, he'd woken up to the sound of a few knocks on the door. He only had enough time to gather a sheet around his waist and open his bedroom door before people invited themselves in, setting boxes down in his living room.

With a twinge of embarrassment and his grip tight on the sheet, he moved towards the front door, signing off at the agreement that they could be there and he was Joey Tribbiani. He gave a nod before going back to his room and shutting the door from him and the busy workers on the other side. He cursed himself under his breath as he checked his phone; there was an alarm set two hours ago for him to be awake, with the description reading: be ready for movers.

As he slipped on a pair of sweats and an old graphic tee from his early thirties, he sighed at the comfort it gave him. Despite his love of food, Joey was sure to keep himself in better shape over the last few years, finding it more attractive to women that he'd meet along the way. While it was quite obvious he was in his forties now, his charm, smile, and doe, brown eyes had yet to fail him in his conquests. Just a hint of a smirk, a small but suggestive look down, and his key phrase, "How you doin'?" could find him in supply closet of just about anywhere.

His thumb hovered over his contacts icon, pressing down before he pressed the C on the small keyboard. Chandler immediately appeared, causing a small smile to spread to his face. After all this time, he still managed to call his best friend once a week, even if it was for a few minutes. There hadn't been anyone better to bring him out of his disappointment when he had to finally accept that he need to move on from his dream.

He pressed the call icon, the metallic chime in his ear making him more alert to the real world. Just as he was about to hang up, a voice greeted him. "Ding, ding, ding, this is Bing."

If he hadn't been so used to the jokes from Chandler, he would've used the original plan to hang up. "Hey, it's Joey. I'm moving back into our old apartment and I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out. It's been awhile."

"Yeah, yeah, I'd love to. But, as you know, Monica makes the schedule, not me." There was a laugh before the phone was set down and the seconds clicked by; both of them knew better than to cross Monica whenever she had things planned out for the day. She was the most strict, spontaneous person Joey had ever met.

After a few moments, the phone was picked up, a soft sigh being heard over the phone speaker. "I can come over but only if you're coming over for dinner. She promised a meal with ja-"

"Deal!" he replied without a moment's hesitation. She could be a pain in the ass but her jam was heaven sent. With a soft laugh, Chandler told him it would be an hour and a half but he would be there.

They exchanged goodbyes and Joey thought how weird it would be to see his best friend after so long apart. Would it be awkward or would it be like an old glove, comfortable and well fitting?

A mover brought in the new foosball table and he was reminded they'd be just fine. If nothing else, how many conversations had been started with a hand gesture to the table?

* * *

Even with their time apart, Joey saw that Chandler had no problem simply opening the apartment door and closing it as if it were still a daily routine.

The door had been swung open, a pair of blue eyes dipped in mischief awaiting him. "Now that you're back in your old apartment, you have to remember that just because you want a sandwich doesn't mean you can go into the neighbor's apartment and take one," Chandler sarcastically clarified.

"Get in here!" Joey demanded, the two instantly sharing an embrace together. It was like coming home to his parent's house for dinner; there was comfort in it, especially since it had been nearly four years since they'd seen each other.

After a bit of small talk, it was off to work, the pair, of course, making a fairly decent start on packing and ended up playing games with something in his things that had become hard enough to act as a baseball. Said item wasn't questioned as to what it had been before; knowing him though, it would be a forgotten biscuit, or something to that extent.

It was lunch time, a sacred time, so packing had dialed down a bit. With two sandwiches on his plate and one on Chandler's, he leaned against the counter, looking up to his old roommate. "So catch me up on everyone. I know that you've probably kept better contact with everyone in the group than I have. Besides you, the last I talked to anyone was Phoebe on New Year's this year."

"Well, Phoebe and Mike are still having some disciplinary issues with their kid but they're doing pretty good. She misses you. A lot. She always talks about how you haven't called her." Chandler laughed before opening the fridge. "I love how you've been living here for less than a day and you've already got it."

"A home isn't a home without it," he replied before motioning for the gossiping to be commenced.

There was a soft clink as the bottle was opened and the cap landed on the counter. "Let's see what everyone else is doing." There was a sarcastic clap, as if they had shared more than four other friends together. "Ross and Rachel are off doing their cycle again."

The Queen-born Italian raised his eyebrows slightly, tilting his head slightly. "Their cycle?"

"Yeah, their cycle. They've divorced, _again_. They're currently doing their bit where they stay friends and get jealous of who the other dates. Or that's Ross' side for the moment. Rachel's dating a guy in her office." It was understood that Rachel worked at Bloomingdale's, mainly because her former boss at Ralph Lauren refused to accept her again and Gucci hadn't gotten a good first impression of her. "Ross is in the, 'Can you believe she's with him?' stage again, while I tell him, 'Well, gee, I don't know if I can believe it, even if you've told me twelve times this week.'"

Out of all their friends, Chandler was the most sarcastic and easily annoyed, by Ross for the most part. And while the rest of the bunch seemed to be more patient than the funniest one of them, all of them seemed to have a short fuse with the paleontologist. "I didn't know they divorced. I haven't talked to Rach for a few years now. How long has it been since they divorced?"

There was a moment of silence, as if there were something odd about the timing. "It's been a few years."

While he acted as it was coincidence that chalked up to a scrambled mess externally, some part of him wondered just how odd it was. As long as he hadn't been keeping up with Rachel, things had fallen apart. And even after a sandwich, with turkey, salami, and ham all together with mustard, it still turned his stomach to process the two things that were important: Ross _and_ Rachel had become Ross **and** Rachel, and he hadn't been there for her when it had happened.


	3. You're Still Here?

_Author's Note:_

 _I know I must be getting annoying with these every chapter but I like to talk too much to cut them out. I'm so sorry for the long wait on the chapter upload! It's been a rough draft for a long time because I wanted to do it in a good way. I don't want anything to be rushed or too forced._

 _Please enjoy and thank you so much for staying tuned for those of you that have._

* * *

In all of his years away from the Bing's, he'd forgotten the magic that Monica could produce with a spoon and a pan. There was a jar of jam sitting next to his fork and plate, something that he found himself inevitably drawn to. Homemade food had made his nap come ten times easier than with something that he could've found in his refrigerator. (Thank god, he didn't try to use Chandler as a cushion for his napping. It would've been history not only repeating itself but more awkward the second _**friend**_ around.)

And after eating at Monica's, his food in the fridge seemed more dull as he settled into his chair and took yet another nap. Some part of his brain, that was alive while he slept, wondered how he had made it all this time without them or his other friends with him. It was like they were all becoming laced together again. And maybe the pattern would continue, maybe by running into some of them, or maybe picking up the phone to call.

* * *

After a week, he started his new job. And out of all the places he had seen himself, Joey had never seen it as a fashion designer's assistant. Sure, it was good money since he now lived in one of the fashion capitals of the world, but his dreams had never taken him here. But with this kind of paycheck, he wasn't complaining.

In the hustle and bustle of trying to make it to the back, he had to shove a lot of people, promising himself there was a meatball sub in the main eating area. That motivation alone had him knocking people over easily; by the time he reached the table, it seemed that a pack of hyenas had cleaned out the table from the food on it.

He heard a voice and turned to see his boss in front of him. "Help the girls get into their outfits, Jason," Pleet said, pointing to the models where were covered in makeup and glitter, half naked. Now he could get used to this kind of life.

"I-it's Joey, by the way," he tried to explain as she walked away.

After helping with outfit adjustments (which he couldn't have been more grateful for some of them), he found himself in a front row seat, next to his boss. He saw that there were millions of people, some designers and some assistants, just like himself. He knew there would be store representatives there, ready to write down what would sell the best.

The catwalk had been more dull than he'd expected, meaning he held a hand to his forehead and a notepad in his lap, a pen in his hand. He'd learned a few tricks to dozing off in public since he had to attend some of Ross' speeches. Following his napping, he went back stage to look at models, sampling at some of the food on the table in the middle. (There was a four food per plate limit so he picked up more food by not having a plate.)

"Joey?" a soft voice said, almost as if they were on the verge of tears. And that voice stopped Joey's heart; the kind of stop that sends one's guts down to their toes and back within the span of six seconds.

He turned around and looked to see Rachel, a hand over her mouth and her eyebrows raised in shock. She swallowed hard, as if trying to contain herself, but they both knew she wouldn't be able to manage it. She'd always been one to have a soft heart, which meant that even if she tried to contain the tears, they would still spill out before it was all over.

Before he could reply, or find something witty to say in response, she was already in his arms, her own wrapped around his torso tightly with her face buried into his neck. He could hear the soft sobbing, his hands moving to rub her back in comfort. He was, once again, reminded that he hadn't been there for her divorce. He knew he should pretend like he didn't know yet; if he'd thought about it before, he should've called her before he went to bed, just to see if she was doing okay.

"You're still here?" he asked quietly, pulling away to see her sapphire, blue eyes focused on him. She had the same fondness in them that he always remembered, the same tender smile when he hadn't understood things and he had been her roommate.

She nodded, her hands moving down to squeeze his firmly before detaching herself from him. "Ross wanted me to stay close enough to be able to see Emma whenever I wanted to."

Joey tilted his head, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion as Rachel motioned for him to follow her. They found a table away from the crowd, with two chairs, high off the ground and mimicking some art form he couldn't comprehend. "Emma went with Ross?"

"Well we're divorced now, so she went to live with him," she retorted. "We decided it was best. With all the work I've had these past few years and her interest towards dinosaurs more than fashion, she wanted to be with Ross more than me." That was when the tears actually fell and she wiped them away with an attempt to look unaffected by such a thing. "And Ross didn't want it to be like Ben with Carol and Susan. So it was best."

Joey reached his hand over the table, with genuine friendship, and took her hand, running his thumbs over her knuckles. She looked up to him, her lips trembling slightly. "I miss her. I know that I can't take her from Ross and that it's for the best, it's just hard." Her hand held on tighter to his and he knew what he had to say next. Even after all these years, he still felt that strong pang of jealousy towards one of his best friends, all over Rachel, but he knew that she needed to hear it.

"Have you ever thought that may be you two should try to work it out again? I mean, you have a family together." He felt his eyebrow raise, his chocolate, brown orbs focused on her. Like she was still the only one in the room.

She paused, her other hand moving over his, almost as if she were about to explain something to a child. "I was never able to talk to you about why Ross and I divorced. And we did still love each other, but we just decided that it was best to end it before we could get more hurt by each other." Rachel sighed, her lips pressing together in thought before she continued. "He was all I ever wanted. For all of the years apart, I thought of what we'd look like together, what it would feel like for his eyes to just be on me. But even after all that daydreaming, after we were married again, it still didn't feel the same way that I had set it out in my head.'

"And by the time I learned compromise was necessary, I had already spent so much time depending on you for whatever I needed to talk about instead of learning how to deal with it on my own." She gestured to him, giving a weak smile. "So when we stopped calling and I had a few months of dealing with just pure Ross, I realized that even though it felt like Christmas to be with him during the good times, I wanted what felt real. Christmas is nice but only for a season. And every time I tried to talk to Monica about it, it became this war of either, 'You're overreacting, Rachel' or 'Figure it out.''

"So we tried to make it work and I tried to keep us together. But you know how the story goes. We fight like cats and dogs, we got jealous at every glance in someone else's direction. Nothing changed from where we had last picked off. A relationship has to move on, evolve; two people have to grow and there was no growing for both of us in that relationship, Joey. No matter how much he understood evolution as a paleontologist, we were never able to understand it as a couple."

Joey finally understood that Chandler had been right; their patterns kept consistent and it had become "the cycle." He took a deep breath, looking about his surroundings for just a moment before an idea hit him. "Well I'm here now. You've got years to unload and I get off in about," he began, looking towards his watch for the time. His eyebrows were furrowed together; it had been a while since he'd had to tell time on a regular watch.

"It's 3:27, Joe," Rachel informed him, chuckling.

"Which means that I get off.. I get off at 5," he explained, rather than going through the embarrassment of his attempts to do the math. "And after 5, I think you should come over to the old apartment. You still get to spill as much food as you want."

From behind the blonde, he saw Pleet motioning for him to come help with the organization of outfits. "Meet me by the stage. We'll make a night of it," he promised, giving her hand one last squeeze before going back to a job he couldn't be more grateful for by the second. All he had to do now was make sure he didn't find himself in the same place he had been in when they were roommates.


	4. A Promise Comes Before a Fall

_Author's Note:_

 _I've been gone for what feels like a month. I want to update on all my stories much more than that. I've started a cycle of starting and slowly getting to one or the other. Surprise, surprise, I have another story coming up. It will most likely be my least liked one but it's based on a newer version of the film rather than the old._

 _Now to this story. I'm so thankful my last chapter was received well. I assumed it would either go over well or be one that was tossed aside and replaced as, "Rachel didn't really love Ross." This chapter will be more Joey and Rachel based since it is more between the both of them and she has the worst part set aside. Enjoy._

* * *

The stroke of five had hit him faster than he thought. He found himself running to the stage, wiping a bit of sweat from the top of his brow. His eyebrows were pulled together, his breathing uneven as he tapped on the shoulder in front of him.

His eyes were met with the face of Rachel, who smiled at him with a freshly, pink stained smile, her blue eyes still gentle in the way they always had been. And deep down, some part of him thought of all the mornings, where those kind eyes had been his first pleasant thing to see in the world, where times had been so much simpler than two people who hadn't seen or spoken to each other in years.

"Ready to go?"

Joey nodded, motioning towards the back exit that led directly onto the street. The streets weren't as busy now, but he knew they were close to the rush hour, especially since it was winter. He already felt any sweat that he had left over seemed to evaporate and leave a chill that ran up his spine; he was glad that he had brought his coat, something he slipped onto his shoulders and stuffed his hands into.

"So tell me about the life," he began, chuckling softly. "Tell me about the life of Rachel Green."

There was a pillow of air that sprouted from her mouth and appeared pink from the colors along the horizon. "Other than the divorce and losing my only child?" she asked, shaking her head.

He nudged her gently, his look becoming stern when she tossed a glance his way. "Come on. I know you've got a few things going for you and you promised to spill. So spill."

Her eyes wandered as she exhaled heavily, obviously having to put thought more to the positive than the negative. "Well, I got a new promotion, finally. I know why they were hesitant but I was the best for the job." She gave a flick to her hair to toss it back over her shoulder and he couldn't help but smile to himself. Anyone who knew Rachel knew that she was one of the best in the fashion industry. "I'm dating an assistant." She laughed when she saw the look on his face, shaking her head. "Don't worry about it. It's not _my_ assistant. The incident with Tag was way too close for comfort anyway."

There was a pause before she began to talk up again. "Emma is going to need braces this year and she's only ten. You know who I blame for that?"

"Ross?"

"Monica, actually." Rachel smiled brightly at him, her arms crossing over her chest to shield her from some of the chill that had swept in. "I'm convinced that some of her genes latched onto my child."

There was a small bit of silence before her hand hit his arm gently, catching his attention. "What about you, Joey? We haven't talked to each other in four years and the last thing I remember was that you were finally going to get hitched to Alex."

Joey paused as he looked to the buildings and found his own, sighing softly as he did. "It just didn't work out. We wanted different things in life and we realized it a little too late. I was ready to settle down, start having kids like everyone else in the group," he explained, kicking a crumbled up cup as he walked, "and Alex didn't really want to start on that yet. And that mixed with my career falling apart, as usual, it was just easier to move back home and get a new start again."

He felt her arm wrap around his, a small sound of sympathy coming from his side. "I'm so sorry, honey." It was the nickname she had called him frequently, but either in the childlike manner or the comforting kind. "Can you believe that we're the only two that never figured it out?"

"Figured what out?"

"The love thing. Like we've been in love, we've had people that gave us good runs, but we never figured it out like Monica and Chandler. The only one who's as unlucky as us is Ross but that's because he marries first and asks names later."

He laughed softly, turning right and coming to the bottom door of his building and holding it open for her. "I always thought that Monica and Chandler were rare. Like you only have that kind of love when you've been swallowing it down for awhile." _Wow, look who's talking, Joe._

"Yeah, maybe." She walked up the stairs before him, and he followed, pulling out his keys. "So why did you pick the old building? You could have picked a ton of a places to be and you're back here."

He nodded, climbing the second to last flight of stairs before turning and climbing the last bit before reaching his door. "I wanted a place that felt like home for awhile. After the split with Alex, I wanted things back to the way they were, like before everyone moved and before I went to LA." She fell quiet and some part of him wondered if he had set too much onto her shoulders.

It wasn't exactly public knowledge that he and Alex weren't together anymore. He hadn't talked about it too much and he didn't plan on doing it any time soon. He knew how his friends could be; the person who was either broken up with or doing the dumping was always blamed. And in this case, it was neither.

Once he opened the door, he turned on the light and entered, peeling his coat from his shoulders and setting it on the table. Old habits die hard. Not as hard as Hans Gruber in the actual Die Hard but the point still stood. "What are you feeling for dinner?"

"Something simple; something that says, 'Joey is finally home.'" She sat on one of the chairs at the counter top, resting her elbows on the surface.

He gave a smirk and pulled out his phone, looking through his contacts and pressing the call button. "It's been ten years but I still have their number."

"Who's number?"

"The only place that can make the Joey special the right way." He heard the phone pick up and heard a voice on the other end, listening to the specials. "I'd like the Joey special, actually. Two large pizzas with-"

"Stuffed crust and extra cheese! You're still legendary here, you know. We missed making the usual order for you." It was true, he was one of the regulars, sending hundreds down the drain every few months by ordering so many. "We'll have it there in 35 minutes. The same address you used to live at?"

"Absolutely." He hung up the phone and looked over to one of his oldest friends, a small look of embarrassment flooding over his face. "They still know me down there. I guess my money got spent well." He was quiet for a moment before pulling two beers out of the fridge and holding one out to her. "Since I don't have the fancy stuff that you used to keep in my fridge, deal with a good drink."

She rolled her eyes and took a drink, closing her eyes as she swallowed. "Damn, it's been a _long time._ " She placed a hand over her chest and took a deep breath. "You know, some melon flavored vodka wouldn't kill you and it would help your drink collection."

He laughed and shook his head, his nose wrinkling slightly. "Unless you're moving in again, it _will_ kill me."

* * *

The night was winding down, the last slice in his hand when he heard a sniffle. Joey looked up and he saw Rachel wipe something from under her eye. His eyebrows furrowed together, trying to understand why she was upset. "What's wrong?"

She paused, a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes becoming prominent now. "It's just... While this was nice, it'll be the last we see of each other for while, most likely. We spent all that time apart and we can't just mend it back together. I just don't want to go back to friends who didn't talk anymore."

He reached a hand out to hers across the counter, his brown orbs holding her gaze captive with a look intense enough to send the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "Don't worry about me going anywhere. I know that we drifted, but part of it was how much actual distance there was between us. And that distance isn't there anymore. You know where I live, which coffee shop I'll always prefer; don't become a stranger again, Rachel. You can see how well that went for us in the first place. With everything that's going on, we should at least stick together."

And while some part of him meant it as only a friend, the other part meant something more, like he could feel everything he had once felt for her awakening inside him again. He knew he'd have to fight it, have to keep himself in check again, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself from falling.


	5. Asking Chandler

_Author's Note:_

 _I'm so sorry that I haven't updated this story! I've had this plan for it for so long but I've never been sure how to execute it. I want it to be known that in the end, this story will have a happy ending. But much like the Friends writers, it will be a_ _ **long**_ _road to the endgame that this story is destined to have._

 _For now, this will be the Chandler and Joey chapter ever, just because I love their friendship so much and I could never imagine Joey without Chandler, especially when something like this is going on in his mind. (Sorry to all the Chandler and Ross fans, Chandler and Joey is my favorite lane.)_

* * *

It was difficult for Joey to go to sleep more than normal. He could usually clear out the few thoughts in his mind and the only thing he really had to worry about was a few days from now. It wasn't like he had a million dollars worth of ideas in there.

But he was worried for more than one reason. Instead of taking a cab, Joey had walked Rachel home, and in that walk, he felt the same sting that he used to, all those years ago. In just one night, he had gone from reminiscing it to being ready to fall right back into the same trap.

The worst part was leaving her apartment. Their breath had intertwined together in the dark but clear sky, though the streets still continued around them with its usual noise; Joey wouldn't have noticed it anyway, despite how loud it was in comparison to her soft voice.

She held his hands tightly before saying goodbye, promising to stop by soon, giving him a smile and disappearing behind her door for the night. He walked home again, humming to himself and getting a finger pointed at him in warning when he caused the door bell to ring past ten at night.

And on his way home, he'd gotten caught in all of his thoughts that he used to have, ones when he had been madly in love with her and trying his best to keep in under wraps. _She's Rachel. You know how Ross will react. It doesn't matter how long they haven't been together; Ross is your friend. You'll wait it out and you'll be over it in a few weeks, tops._

All of those thoughts had cleared out, all but one. _What happens if you do fall in love with her again?_

It haunted him, more so now than it had then because he'd been surrounded by people to distract him on a daily basis. He couldn't exactly say that he had that now, even if part of it was his fault.

Joey picked up his phone and looked at the time; it was nearly two in the morning. He unlocked it, sending Chandler a text that was simple: **Need your advice. Come over tomorrow?**

He oddly felt better at the thought of Chandler coming over the following day; even if it was late, it would be better than nothing at all. All he knew for now was that out of everyone, Chandler had kept calm when it came to dealing with situations that were catastrophic or could have similar consequences. It was only logic that Chandler could teach him to do the same thing.

With the promise of having things figured out soon enough, Joey fell asleep like a child, his heart finally becoming as light as a feather again.

* * *

It was nearly seven when he heard a knock on his door, only to open it to see his favorite Bing. They smiled and hugged for a brief moment before going inside completely and shutting the door. "So what's up, Joe?" Chandler asked, going over to the couch that was closer to Joey's room than his former one.

Joey pulled two beers from the fridge, thinking about how he should word the situation. He didn't want his best friend thinking that he was already in love with Rachel, just trying to avoid going down that path. "I saw Rachel yesterday and she came over for awhile."

He could tell that Chandler was having an issue distinguishing the problem, his lips pressed together and eyes squinted in order to piece together the information. "And..?"

"Look, I'm not like I was way back then. But I know if I let myself do it, I'll be right back there."

"Back where, Joe?" His best friend sighed, taking a sip from his bottle of beer before setting back onto the counter. "Joey, even if you fell in love with Rachel again, don't you think that Ross would be a good enough friend to understand? It's not like you'd be dating her; it's _feelings_ that you can't control."

"He's always been a good friend, Chandler; I just don't know if I would be a good friend to do that to him. Even when it was just feelings, when I hadn't told Rachel and it was just between me and Ross, he couldn't even talk to me. I'd rather have to be awkward friends with Rachel than have him mad at me for the rest of his life."

Chandler shook his head, something that made Joey wonder what could've been going on in there. "If that were possible, he would have given up on you the first time. But say he does; say he wants nothing to do with you for the rest of all our lives. You've got me, Monica; you won't be alone, Joe. I promise."

And as greedy as it was, the Queens born man drank up that promise, remembering to hold onto it for dear life. The remaining weight rolled right off his shoulders, something that made him smile before picking up his beer and moving to the foosball table that was brand new but still in its old spot. "Well, maybe you should see if you wanna stick to that after I kick your ass, eh?"

His former roommate tilted his head, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. "No, I'm not too worried. You'd have to actually know _how_ to play foosball for that to happen."

* * *

There was a solid knock against his door and he checked his watch; he didn't remember inviting anyone over but then again, did he really have the best memory in the first place anyway?

Joey answered the door, his breath catching in his throat as he saw not only one dirty blonde but two, the other only slightly shorter than the other. The shorter blonde, who he thought looked familiar but wasn't quite sure he could place her, practically jumped into his arms. "Uncle Joey!" she said with an unfiltered joy, something he smiled at.

"Emma." He closed his arms and hugged her back, as if she were his own coming back from a whole summer's worth of camp; he was sure he could feel the crow's feet at the sides of his eyes but it didn't matter to him. He'd missed her so much and he'd realized how much she'd grown in the last few years.

And despite how much he feared jumping into something different, something familiar, he knew that he could never let it get to the point where he didn't recognize either of the people who filled the room with him. So he closed the door and offered what would be the first of many conversations on the new couch that was nestled between two windows that looked down upon the city life below them.


End file.
